


For DWC, Isabela x Merrill, The taste of salt on the tip of your tongue

by Amata_Hawke



Series: Dragon Age Drunk Writing Circle [DWC] [1]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: DWC, Drunk Writing Circle, F/F, Tumblr Prompt, sensory prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-02 08:34:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19437784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amata_Hawke/pseuds/Amata_Hawke





	For DWC, Isabela x Merrill, The taste of salt on the tip of your tongue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kittlesandbugs](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=kittlesandbugs).



The beach was unexpectedly _loud_ —loud, and wild, and _wonderful_. Merrill had expected the smell of salt on the wind and the calling of seabirds overhead, but she hadn’t expected much more noise than that. She had been to harbors before, getting on or off of one ship or another, but she’d never heard the ocean make so much noise. The waves crashing on the beach reminded her of the sound of a roaring waterfall—if a waterfall could throb like a heartbeat. The seagulls were much more numerous here than they were by Kirkwall’s docks, and they were wheeling through the sky in dizzying circles. They fought over some shellfish or crab she couldn’t quite make out. The cacophony they made with their squawking carried across the sand for what seemed like miles, carried by the stiff breeze that blew constantly off the water. The wind was refreshing, a welcome respite from the heat of the Antivan sun overhead.

The sand itself seemed to go on forever, extending from high dunes covered in sparse coastal grasses down to the surf in a broad expanse that it could probably have contained the entire Arlathvhen. A distinct line of green vegetation—seaweed, Isabela called it—marked the place where the water’s edge would have been at high tide. Sheer cliffs and towering sea stacks rose out of the sand abruptly in places, with pools of water collected around their bases.

Isabela had brought Merrill here shortly after they made port in Rialto. She had wanted Merrill to see a “real beach.” Merrill hadn’t really understood what she meant, but it was better than waiting on the ship, so she had eagerly agreed. Now she was glad she had. Even the sand and pebbles were beautiful, running through every shade from a goldenrod to a reddish jasper, through black, grey, and white, and even rare greenish shades here and there. Oyster shells with a beautiful pearlescence glimmered sometimes in the sand near the water, along with black mussel shells and bleached round sand dollars.

Merrill spent the day on enthusiastic exploration, with Isabela laughing along behind her, pointing out things she had missed. She had thought nothing of the puddles around the rocky towers, until Isabela pointed out all the life that teemed within them. After that, Isabela could scarcely pull Merrill away, so she knelt at the pools beside her and showed her the splendors of these little oceanic microcosms.

Little fish darting between rocks and branches, strange plant-like things that waved in the water, prickly things Isabela called sea urchins. Shellfish and crustaceans of every shape and size. And the starfish! Merril had never even heard of starfish, but they were beautiful. Reds and purples, with white speckles and adorable little pointed arms. They barely seemed to move at all, but if she looked away and back again, they would usually have scooted further along the rock somewhere. 

Finally, Isabela placed a hand on Merrill’s shoulder, distracting her from her scrutinization of an anemone as it snared tiny food particles.

“Tide’s coming in, Kitten,” Isabela said with a smile. “Time to go.”

Reluctantly, Merrill pulled herself away from the tide pool and walked with Isabela along the base of the cliff on the way back toward the road into the city. The sun was setting now, painting the sky with magnificent strokes of gold, red, pinks, and purples. Merrill couldn’t stop grinning up at the sky as she walked arm-in-arm with Isabela, laughing and chatting about the day they’d had together. 

They were so distracted by each other and by the sunset that neither of them was paying overmuch attention to where their feet were taking them as they strolled along the base of the cliff, along the edges of the tide pools. Merrill was laughing with Isabela when suddenly, her foot met with cold water instead of sand. Merril’s laugh turned to a yelp of dismay as she lost her balance and pitched forward, dragging Isabela along with her. Her voice cut off suddenly as the water closed over her head, brine filling her open mouth. Merrill snapped her jaw shut reflexively, spitting the salty water out in a jet in front of her. She disentangled herself from Isabela and got her feet under her, finding the sandy bottom of the pool. She stood up abruptly, gasping as she broke the surface and the shock of the cold water soaking through her hair and clothes finally hit her. She found herself up to her breasts in salt water. Sand kicked up by the disturbance swirled around her, getting under her clothing, sticking to her skin.

Isabela was already back on her feet, laughing with wild abandon. Merrill looked up at her; the pirate queen looked the part more than ever, with her hair and clothing soaked through and clinging to her skin, head thrown back as she laughed. Her voice rang off the walls of the cliffs above them, proclaiming the freedom and joy she found in the sea. The setting sun cast her in a rosy light, glimmering off her golden jewelry and accentuating the rich brown of her skin. Watching her, Merrill forgot the cold and the scratching sand for just a moment.

When Isabela looked around at her, still beaming, Merrill glanced down quickly, her face heating. “I’m sorry. You know, for staring,” she said. She shook herself a bit and looked back up at the other woman. “It’s just that I couldn’t... quite.. look away.” She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself against the sudden chill of the wind biting through her soaked tunic, smiling ruefully.

“Ooh. Such sweet words,” Isabela grinned. “Look at yourself, Kitten. Hair soaked, sun showing off that blush in your cheeks...” Isabela reached out and wrapped an arm around Merril’s shoulders, pulling her close. Merril responded, reaching out to place her arms around Isabela’s waist. She reached up with one dark hand, sweeping dripping bangs aside. Merrill flushed, but reached up to kiss her all the same. Isabela’s response was softer than usual, slow and gentle, and Merrill could taste the salt all over again. When they broke apart, they were grinning laughing again, just from the pleasure of being together in this place, under the brilliant Antivan sunset, with a tide rolling in.


End file.
